


Scowls & Smiles

by GoogleBlue



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bisexual Derek Hale, Confused Derek, F/M, M/M, New Kid!Stiles, Popular!Derek, Teen Derek Hale, nerd!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoogleBlue/pseuds/GoogleBlue
Summary: Ye typical high school AU where Derek's all popular and Stiles is the new kid who everyone thinks is weird.•.•.•.•Quickly, Stiles turns towards his jeep and loads his bag into the back seat. When he turns back around, shirtless-dude is leaning down to grab something from the convertible parked next to Stiles, and Stiles sneaks a look at the guys ass. It's a pretty nice ass. The guy stands back up and pulls on a shirt, still facing away from Stiles."Yea I know," the guy says before turning around, startling Stiles and making him jump. "It's my ass right?"Stiles has to scoff. "Wow." He drawls. "Someone's cocky."





	1. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has his first day at school. He has hopes, maybe this adjustment won't be all that bad.

Stiles had spent most of today getting judge-y looks from strangers. As he made his way from class to class in his fancy new private school, he felt as if every pair of eyes was trained on him and the way he walked and the style of his hair. It was, in essence, torture. Then again, every high school was torture.

Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of whispered conversations. Murmurs containing key words like "sheriff" and "boys". He knows they're talking about him and he knows what they are saying. Yea, his dad is the sheriff. Yea, his mother is dead, and has been for a while. Yea, he's an openly gay dude and yea, he doesn't really belong at a private school. But here he is.

Making his way to calculus Stiles notices a few posters taped to the walls. One of them features lacrosse sticks and the words "Try out now!" in bold red letters with some dates listed below. If one thing was going to stay the same at this school, it was going to be that Stiles remained a bench-warmer on the lacrosse team. Who knows, maybe one game he'd face off against his old high school, and he'd get to see Scott and Allison and Lydia again.

As far as math classes go, calculus is pretty okay. The teacher doesn't make a big deal of him transferring and he quickly picks up on what the rest of the class is learning. He does, however, sit next to this one girl who doesn't stop talking. The girl is skinny but not thin, and her hair is pitch-black while her lips are ruby-red. She keeps giggling and whispering to the blonde girl next to her, and Stiles doesn't know if he'll be able to go through the rest of the year like this.

On his other side though, there's a pretty girl named Malia who he thinks he could get along with very well. She doesn't seem to grasp what the teacher is trying to teach, but she seems to be trying to understand and Stiles admires that. She also has a weird habit of chewing on the end of her pencil, but Stiles thinks he could overlook that.

Lunch isn't too awkward. He stands around for a while before deciding to sit near the girl from calculus, Malia. She's busy shoving her face full of mashed potatoes when he plops down across from her and introduces himself with a little wave. She gives him a glare, but doesn't kick him out. Strangely, no one else comes to sit at the table, and Stiles is left to wonder if she really has any friends.

Just as his day is dwindling down and he's on his way out to his jeep, he catches a glimpse of toned skin and dark hair racing past him. He follows the blur until it slows down and comes crashing into a pack of guys in lacrosse jerseys. Stiles hears some whoops and cheers, and then the running man emerges with the slim black-haired girl from math. The girl is walking fast and clutching her books to her chest and Stiles swears she saying something but he can only make out half of it. The guy jogs to catch up with her and gently stops her by placing his hands on her shoulders. He says something, and after a moment she nods and gives him a quick peck on the lips, and then walks away. The guy watches her for a moment before turning away and walking over towards Stiles.

Quickly, Stiles turns towards his jeep and loads his bag into the back seat. When he turns back around, shirtless-dude is leaning down to grab something from the convertible parked next to Stiles, and Stiles sneaks a look at the guys ass. It's a pretty nice ass. The guy stands back up and pulls on a shirt, still facing away from Stiles.

"Yea I know," the guy says before turning around, startling Stiles and making him jump. "It's my ass right?"

Stiles has to scoff. "Wow." He drawls. "Someone's cocky."

The guy chuckles. It pulls at something in Stiles' gut, just the guys smile and the sound of his voice, Stiles wants to curl up in on himself. "Sorry, usually when I say that it catches people so off-guard they forget I'm being an ass."

"Yea well I guess I'm not those people." Stiles says as he crosses his arms.

The guy smiles a little, and offers his hand. "Derek."

Stiles shakes it. "Stiles."

Derek quirks an eyebrow, and the action speaks about a million words.

"It's a nickname, okay?" Stiles defends.

Derek smiles again, and Stiles maybe smiles a little back, and then the moment is ruined by a whiny feminine sound that reminds Stiles of his seven-year-old niece.

"Hey, why are you oggling my boyfriend?" It's the black-haired girl again, this time in a tight, blue and white cheerleaders uniform.

Stiles looks at her, and then looks Derek up and down. He cocks his head to the side and shrugs, "Eh, he's not my type."

Stiles can see the grin threatening to break out on Derek's face, but the girl doesn't look so amused. "Oh please, everyone knows you're queer. He's so you're type." She flips her hair over her shoulder.

Stiles shrugs and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "That's stereotyping, but okay. I'll see you around." Then he gets in his jeep, salutes, and drives off.


	2. Wherefore Art Thou, Romeo?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles bonding and some filling in of the blanks and maybe establishing some stuff for later chapters *wink* *wink*

The rest of the week goes by pretty smoothly. Mostly Stiles just shuffles his way through the halls and keeps his head down and sits with Malia at lunch. He's honestly so surprised that she hasn't bitten his head off yet but he's also not complaining. Actually, on Thursday, he made a joke at the expense of their math teacher and Malia had smiled. That means he's making progress, at least.

Today is the first day of the weekend, which means it's also the first day he'll be seeing Scott since he's transferred. When he hears the telltale drag of tires in his driveway he almost trips down the stairs and opens the door just as Scott rings the doorbell. Stiles crushes his best friend in a hug and revels in the feeling of being hugged back by someone who appreciates him as much as he does them.

"Stiles, buddy, I need to be breathing in order to play video games." Scott pats him on the back in warning and Stiles lets him go.

"Sorry man I've just missed having a good friend around." Stiles grins. "I've got so much to tell you that I left out over text."

Scott rolls his eyes. "Well don't just stand there! Order some pizza already."

The friends rush upstairs and Stiles orders food while Scott sets up a game of Call of Duty. Soon enough they're shooting down the opposing team while Stiles describes his private-school escapades.

"I'm like ninety-eight percent sure I've already made an enemy. Okay, maybe ninety-seven, but I wasn't even doing anything to provoke this chick." Stiles is saying. "She's some cheerleader I'm guessing, I mean, she had on a cheer uniform in the school colors, and she's in my math class. Her boyfriend is like, super hot and cocky but in a good way. So anyways, I'm just talking to super-hot-boyfriend-dude because he happened to be parked next to me, and she comes over telling me to-"

"Watch your left." Scott interrupts.

Stiles turns just in time to see an opponent round the corner. He quickly no-scopes his way to the final kill. "Thanks man." Scott nods. "So anyways, I'm talking to him and she comes over and gets all overprotective, like her boyfriend wasn't already pure muscle concealed in school gym shorts and he couldn't protect himself from lilttle old me. I'm just having a nice little conversation, and because everyone somehow knows I'm gay already she thinks I'm flirting or trying to get with him or something."

"Ooooh that's not right." Scott says, putting down his controller and leaning back onto Stiles' bed.

Stiles jumps a little. "I know! And now every time we're in math she tries to one-up me by answering more problems and shit though she's not very good at calculus and I swear she tells all her friends about how I'm just desperate for sex and that's the real reason I like dudes over girls. I mean, sure her boyfriend is actually Greek-God levels of hot but that doesn't mean I was hitting on him. I was just staring at his huge arms and thick hair and rainbow eyes and heaving chest and-"

Scott is giving him a look. A look that says something like 'please stop telling me about your boy-crush because once you start talking you never stop and soon enough you'll be describing some sexual fantasy involving you, Derek, a blindfold, and handcuffs and I really don't want to go down that road again'.

Resiegned and face heating up Stiles says, "So yea. His girlfriend sucks."

Scott crosses his arms behind his head. "You know, she sounds like a hardcore mean-girl." Stiles nods. "What's her name, anyways?"

"Uh it's like Jadie or Jenny or something. Jennifer, I think."

Scott hesitates. "Jennifer? Black hair? Kinda thin?"

Stiles nods suspiciously.

"Dude, she went to middle school with us. Jennifer Blake. She hated you cuz you were friends with me and I rejected her Valentine's Day card. Then she went away to private school, your private school, I guess."

"No shit." Stiles gapes.

Scott sits up. "Yup. Small world."

Suddenly, Stiles' phone rings. "Hello... yea I'll be right down.... okay. It's the pizza man."

Both teens make their way down the stairs to pay for their pizza and set up a new base in Stiles' kitchen.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Stiles says around a bite of bacon, "But how's things with Allison?"

Scott visibly brightens. "Oh man she's great. On the first day of school we went out for ice cream and she had a little bit of chocolate sprinkle on her lips and I brushed it off with my thumb and then we were just looking at each other. For a solid five minutes. I could've kissed her."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Well why didn't you?"

"We're not that far in our relationship yet." Scott blushes. "We're taking things slow."

"Psh, if I was in a relationship with someone I really liked, someone I like as much as you like Allison, I would not hesitate to get all up on that."

Scott grins lopsided at him and finishes off his second slice of pizza while Stiles is just finishing the crust of his first. "I really don't want to mess this up." Scott says, a little sheepishly.

Stiles face cracks. Sometimes he just can't stand how adorable his best friend is. "You're too pure for this world, man. Allison and you deserve each other."

That makes Scott flush red more.

Eventually, it's time for Scott to go home. Melissa had called and demanded he be home in time for dinner, and Scott wasn't one to turn down more food.


	3. Jocks Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacrosse tryouts! Should be fun, right? Right???

The fateful day arrives. The day where Stiles proves his worth or sulks home in shame. The day where he steps up to the plate or retires his number for good. The day he tries out for lacrosse and makes the team or falls on his face and embarrasses himself enough that he'll never attend high school again.

Scott keeps assuring him over text, saying things like, 'no pressure' and 'you'll do great' and 'don't overthink it'. He should really know better by now.

Stiles enters the locker room only to be met with the usual stench of boy-sweat and underlying aura of foot-stink. You'd think that these kids are richer and they'd smell nicer, but no, guys are still guys, no matter how much money is in their trust fund.

It seems most of the boys are already in here, chatting and teasing while getting changed. Stiles goes to his usual spot for gym and plops down on a bench, setting up everything before starting to undress. A few feet away, if he actually looks, he can see Derek pulling on his sneakers. And if he listens, he can faintly hear the scratch of Derek's voice going, "shut up! I swear I'm going to rip your guys throats out sometime. With my teeth" over the bustle of teens getting ready.

Focusing back on his own business, Stiles changes quickly and darts out the door, crashing straight into the wall. Wait, not a wall. Derek.

"Oh shit. Sorry dude." Stiles looks up to see Derek's sort of smiling down at him. It does something to him. Something he's not sure he's ready to explain.

"You're fine." Derek says and his breath ghosts over Stiles face and Stiles resists the urge to lick his lips.

"C'mon, it's not like a kid like him is going to make it on the team anyways." A voice says.

Stiles breaks away to see another boy, with lighter hair and freckles and a solid fucking jawline, over Derek's shoulder.

"Hey, I'll have you know I was on the team back at my old high school, thank you very much." Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, staring the guy down.

The guy only scoffs, as if Stiles is barely worth his time. "And I'll bet you were a benchwarmer, right?"

The words hit Stiles like a fist to the stomach. He can feel his own face twisting into something ugly and red.

The boy laughs. "Thought so." He says. And then he walks away very smug-like.

Stiles turns back to Derek, realizing that he's just witnessed that whole humiliating scene.

"Jacksons co-captian of the team and his parents pretty much own half of the school board." Derek says, nodding his head in the direction of the douchey guy.

"Ah yes, grade A douchbag, then." Stiles briefly lifts his eyebrows, and Derek cracks a grin that somehow makes whatever just happened a distant memory, and now all he can think of is cute. Derek. Smiley. Me. Kissy. Derek. No. Wait. Smile. Bright.

A few other kids shuffle past, one of them patting Derek on the shoulder and effectively managing to shake Stiles out of his stupor.

"I'll uh, see you during practice." Stiles says, and then he darts out of the locker room before he can get a response.

Thing is, Jackson is hellbent on making Stiles' life on this team hell. Coach Crawford didn't seem to notice a thing, though Stiles didn't know how the guy could miss the constant attacks on his life. By the end of practice, between dodging Jacksons throws and narrowly avoiding being tackled by the guy, Stiles is tired. Exhausted. He didn't even have the mind enough to stare appreciatively at Derek in his post-practice clothes that hung too tight onto his chest and thighs which, really, that was saying something. And, here's the kicker, he would have to do it all over again tomorrow. Someone needed to remind him of why he tried out in the first place.

As if on cue, a dark muscly dude in a gray tank top taps Stiles on the shoulder.

"Hey, I saw you getting your ass torn out there." The guys says and wow, okay, thanks for the boost of confidence, douchey stranger.

That seemed to be a developing pattern with this lacrosse team. A whole bunch of jerks.

The guy continues, "Jackson can be a real pain in the ass, but don't let that stop you from trying. You'd actually be great for the team, I think, as a defender. Because you've got good footwork and you're pretty quick. Maybe you need a little bit more training but-"

Stiles cuts him off. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Effectively ruining whatever praise or advice or whatever it was he was being given.

"Boyd." The guy sticks out his hand. "My first names Vernon, but if I ever hear you call me that I won't hesitate to kill you."

Stiles shakes his hand and squints at him. "Okayyy and what exactly are you doing here? Talking to me?"

Admittedly, that may have sounded a bit snobbish, but Stiles wasn't used to interacting with anyone outside of Malia, really, and he hadn't been living up to his natural asshole-ish reputation as of late.

"I'm offering you an olive branch. I'll train you in lacrosse for a bit, and you'll owe me a favor."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how you extend the olive branch," Stiles says, "And who says I need extra coaching?" The guy gives him a pointed look, expressing all that he needed to. "Okay. Fine. Just as long as I think the favor is valid compensation. I'm not going to like, help you hide a body or something for this."

Boyd nods, taking out his phone and handing it to Stiles. "I'm gonna need your contact information. Whenever you can practice, let me know."

Stiles types in his number and hands the phone back. As Boyd turns to walk away, Stiles calls out a "Thanks!" and then he's gone.

Looking around, Stiles notices he's the only one left in the locker room. He quickly pulls on his sneakers and pops in his earbuds, hauling his bag over his shoulder and beginning to hum in tune with his music.

"But now we're sleeping at the edge, holding something we don't need." He sings aloud, just to himself. He actually quite enjoys singing every once in a while. When he's in the mood. Apparently, today he's in the mood.

"All this delusion in our heads, is gonna bring us to our knees." He's nearing the door, but he doesn't even notice the figure still standing by at one of the sinks.

"So come on let it go. Just let it be. Why don't you be you? And I'll be me. Everything's that's broke, leave it to the breeze. Why don't you be you, and I'll be me, and I'll be mEE FUCK HOLY HELL OH MY GOD!" Stiles shrieks when he finally sees him, arms flailing and knocking out his earbuds in the turmoil.

Derek stands, with his hands hanging over the sink and still dripping with water, staring at Stiles with a wicked grin.

"You can sing." Derek states, matter-of-factly.

Stiles whole face burns. He wants to die. "Oh god. I'm sorry. Sometimes I just feel like singing I really didn't know anyone else was in here." He can feel his face start to get warmer and warmer the more he talks, can feel the sensation traveling all across his neck and chest. "Definitely would not have sung if I knew you were there oh my god I'm an idiot I'm sorry-"

Derek puts a hand over his mouth. It tastes like water.

"Hey, no. It was good. What the fuck are you sorry for?" His look is a little incredulous. Stiles hates it.

"Hmm hmmhmm hm." Stiles mumbles. Derek removes his hand. "I'm gonna go." And then he speeds out of there just fast enough to pretend like he didn't hear Derek's call of "wait!" before launching himself into his jeep and driving home.


	4. Till Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of lacrosse tryouts. Hopefully the next chapter will be slightly more interesting, as right now I'm just trying to set things up. Bear with me! It gets good! I think...

****

****

Scott: Dude.

Scott: No matter what I'm proud of you.

-Stiles: youre cheesy and i hate you

Scott: Even if you don't make first line, benching still means we'll get to see each other at games

-Stiles: yea except I'll be watching you score from the sidelines

Scott: But we'll SEE each other Stiles

-Stiles: I SEE you enough. I want to PLAY

-Stiles: PLAY OR DEATH

Scott: you're dramatic and I hate you

Stiles smiles down at his phone screen one last time before shutting it off and stuffing it in his locker. He jumps around and stretches a little, if only to relieve some nerves, and then he steps out onto the field.

Most of the team is lined up on the sidelines around Coach Crawford already. Stiles takes his place on the outer edges and almost shouts when someone bumps his shoulder. Hard.

Jackson smirks and mouths 'bench' at him, putting a lot of emphasis on the 'ch' which, despite making him look ridiculous, still gets Stiles worked up.

Another figure comes and stands on Stiles' left. It's Boyd.

"If you don't make it, you don't make it." Boyd says. Stiles thinks this is his way of reassuring him. It's not very effective.

The Coach begins assigning positions for a game. The game that determines if you'll make it onto the team, get benched, or are kicked off completely. Neither Stiles nor Boyd is up for the first set of people, so they sit on a bench to wait.

"So, I can do after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Never on the weekends, those are my Scott days."

Boyd gives him a questioning look. "You've got something on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, too?"

Stiles shrugs. "Not really. I just don't want to practice dai-"

"Then we'll practice everyday after school." Boyd cuts him off.

"I don't want to practice everyday I have better things to do."

"You want to be on the team, you practice." Boyd says it with a finality that Stiles doesn't even want to try and argue anymore. Except he's Stiles, so he does.

"I have a life, you know? A family. Friends. Homework. I can't practice every single day."

Boyd doesn't say anything.

"We'll practice Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Not everyday. Final offer."

Boyd still doesn't answer him. Stiles doesn't know what that means for his schedule.

Out on the field, Jacksons just scored on some poor sophomore kid. Derek is bouncing back-and-forth on his feet like he's Rocky or something, and the coach is yelling at them both to set up for a face-off.

"Quick question," Stiles starts, "who are the captains here?"

Its almost as if Boyd smiles at him, but that wouldn't be a very Boyd-like thing to do.

"You know Jackson is co-captain. Derek Hale is the actual captain." Boyd points at Derek, who has just knocked the ball away from Jackson and into the net of one of his teammates, and Stiles deflates.

"Of fucking course he is." Stiles mutters to himself. He thinks back to his and Derek's encounter in the locker room yesterday, and he desperately wants to face-palm. Derek probably thinks he's a total fucking dork now.

Not that it matters.

But still.

As they're setting up another face-off, Derek gives a little distracted wave to someone on the other side of the field. Stiles follows the action to whom it's directed at, only to find a group of girls in blue and white skirts. Cheerleaders. So Derek was waving at his girlfriend. Stiles watches as Jennifer makes kissy faces and suggestive hip motions throughout her routine, all directed at Derek. It's kind of uncomfortable to watch, actually, so Stiles goes back to the game. A particularly intense movement actually makes Derek pause mid-game, and Stiles has to rethink his analysis of Derek and roll his eyes because 'hello, Derek is just your average thirsty-ass teenage guy'.

By the time it's Stiles' turn up he's pretty pumped. He thinks he may have taken one too many Adderall pills back in the locker room, but it's too late now.

The coach puts him as midfielder first so he makes a fool of himself. Not as bad as he expected though, so his hopes are still high when Crawford switches him to defender. According to Boyd this is where he could excel at, so he's really trying his best to focus and get the ball around to attackers and midfielders. He's so focused on the guy he's supposed to shadow throughout the game that he doesn't notice the dark figure that's running straight at him until he's being knocked to the ground. He lands on his shoulder, very painfully, and hits his head pretty hard. Jackson is smiling down at him from the gap in his helmet. The coach calls him off the field to rest and on his way to the bleachers Stiles catches Derek with a group of friends, all laughing, and Stiles resolves to not look back at him for the rest of the day.

Around seven o'clock, when tryouts are over and everyone has showered and changed and made their way back out to the field, Coach Crawford beckons everyone close and starts shouting names from a clipboard.

"Jeff Davis, Carter Atkins, Issac Lahey, Aiden Carver..." Stiles tunes it out until he hears something familiar. "Vernon Boyd, George Tweek and Sebastian Camacho. You guys are first line. Along with your captains, of course."

There's various cheers and whoops, but Stiles isn't feeling the positive energy. Boyd comes over and places a hand on his shoulder, but it doesn't do much comforting when he can hear the coach calling out a couple more names, including his own, and then following up with "You guys are on the bench. We'll need you when one of these guys can't make it."

The rest of the boys are sent home sulking. One kid even cries, and Stiles feels for him, he really does.

Boyd approaches him in the locker room again, "We start tomorrow."


	5. Wait You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was on hold for like two months but I'm back and there will be updates again. Woo! Also Boyd talks a lot more than I intended him to???? Idk I just need him to be this little match and light this little flame okay????

"So were going to start with a drop step exercise." Boyd says. "Set up a couple tiny cones in an uneven zigzag."

Stiles obeys. "Isn't this what we do in regular lacrosse practice? I thought you were actually going to train me."

Boyd gives him a look. It is not a positive look. 

"Jeez dude it was just an observation." Stiles continues down the field, placing cones this way and that until he's reached the other end. He calls up to Boyd, "Now what?"

"Now shuffle." Boyd calls back.

Fortunately, Stiles was expecting that. He goes right into it, keeping low and shuffling from cone to cone, changing direction each time he reaches a tiny orange point. In no time he's back on Boyd's side and barely breaking a sweat. 

"Okay. That was okay." Boyd says. "Now do it again, faster."

Stiles scoffs. "Alright. Easy."

He does it again, and makes his way back as soon as he reaches the other end. 

"Boom. Both ways." He pants.

Boyd nods. "Again."

"Oh come on. Really? I just did it!"

"Again."

Stiles turns and starts at the first cone, but somewhere around the third Boyd jumps in and follows in front of him, acting as the attacker that Stiles would be shadowing.

"Lets go, keep up." Boyd urges.

Stiles glares but picks up the pace. They reach the other end and immediately Boyd starts tracking back. This time, Stiles has to really shuffle fast in order to catch up.

They've probably run he course about thirty times when Stiles finally gets a break. He rushes to drink water at the bench, only to find his one-and-only blocking the path to his gym bag.

"Shit."

"Stiles, hey." Derek says. "You did really good out there. I think I might've saw some minor improvement."

He's smiling. Derek is smiling. And it's really cute. And he's expecting some sort of response. From Stiles.

"Are you kidding me? I've never done so many drop steps in my life. My legs are killing me."

"Yea. I actually gave Boyd a few tips when he was developing the routine for your practices. You're not a really big guy so you'll need to be really fast if you want to be good."

"Boyd told you about this?"

Derek blushes. "Oh uh, yea because I'm captain and all I guess he figured I would know something or whatever." He rubs a hand at the back of his neck. _Awww Derek is nervous. Cute. But, nervous about what? Talking to me? Ha. As if._

Stiles nods. "Okay."

"Yup."

"So, if you could just scoot over a bit you're kind of blocking my access to hydration."

"Access to hydration? Who even says that?" Derek asks as he shuffles to give Stiles some space.

Stiles grabs the bottle from his bag and takes a few gulps before responding. "Me, obviously."

Derek chuckles.

"Stiles." Boyd calls. "Get back to it. Twenty more reps."

Stiles gapes and goes to complain, but Derek beats him to it.

"Aww Stiles is this meanie bothering you?" Derek says in _the worst_ baby-voice possible.

Boyd glares at him. "We're working."

"He can take a break. Everyone needs a break once in a while." Derek winks over in Stiles direction, making Stiles' face grow hot. "Maybe a break will get that stick out of your ass."

Stiles wants to laugh, and he does, but he quickly covers it up after the look he receives from Boyd.

"I'm trying to help him. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Derek stills. Stiles tilts his head. _What Derek wanted? What is he talking about?_

"Anyways." Boyd says, clearing his throat. "If you're gonna be here, you may as well help."

Derek climbs over the bench and reaches down to pick up a lacrosse stick without a word - Stiles totally does not stare at his ass again - and soon enough all three of them are on the field. Derek acts as an attacker to which Stiles defends against, which means he's up close and getting personal with each pass Boyd makes to him. As he's following Derek around the field in his aching drop-step position, he picks up on the swing of Derek's arms when he goes to make a goal and the twist of his feet just as he's about to change direction. It's not hard to notive some simple habits, and Stiles finally manages to stick-check the ball away from him.

"Ha!" Stiles cheers, lifting his arms into the air. "I am victorious!"

Derek grins as he removes his helmet. "That's progress." He says. "I didn't think you had that in you."

Stiles scoffs at him, removing his own helmet. "You may be bigger than I am, but no one beats the Stilesster."

Derek quirks one of his incredibly thick eyebrows. "I'm sorry the what?"

"Me. The Stiles-ster." Stiles concedes. "Nobody beats me. Jesus, Derek get your head in the game." Stiles taps his noggin for emphasis.

"Alright alright." Boyd interrupts. "It's getting late, Stiles. Go home, get some rest. I'll see you here tomorrow."

Stiles nods as Boyd walks away, leaving him alone with... Derek. _Great. That's my cue._

"So I'm gonna head out now if you don't mind." Stiles begins to turn around, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Derek turns him back so they're face-to-face.

"Oh no you don't." Derek says, releasing him. "You run away just about every single time we see each other. This time, I want a proper goodbye."

Stiles opens his mouth and then closes it. He's pretty sure he looks like a gaping fish, but Derek stands tall, waiting for an answer.

"I don't run away every time I see you-"

"The lockeroom yesterday. " Derek cuts him off. "I know you heard me, yet you still drove away. And when we first met. That wasn't a proper goodbye either."

"So maybe I suck at goodbyes. What of it?" Stiles crosses his arms in defiance, sticking up his chin and holding his ground.

Derek crosses his arms too, and his arms seem to be way bigger than Stiles'. "I want a proper goodbye. You know how to give one, everyone does"

Stiles lets his arms fall - really, who was he fooling anyways? - and holds them out for a hug. "Goodbye Derek." He feels Derek's arms wrap around his shoulders and Derek gives him a pat on the back. They pull apart just in time for it to not be awkward.

"There. Was that so hard?" Derek smiles lightly at him. 

Stiles' heart is pounding about a mile a minute, but he still manages to reach inside and pull out some sort of self-defense sarcasm. "If all you wanted was to get your hands on me you could've at least bought me dinner first." He says through blushing cheeks.

Derek's smile grows wider and he laughs. "Okay Stiles. Maybe next time, yea?" And then he clasps Stiles' shoulder one last time, and waves goodbye.


	6. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is making progress! In all aspects of his life!! Things are great!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm also making progress!! I'm trying to make my chapters longer cuz I need this set-up to end so I can make this shit have fluff and angst and tons of feels cuz I need that shit in my life.

After weeks of extra practice with Derek and Boyd, they have their first game. Stiles, unfortunately, does not get to show off his newly acquired skills, but Boyd freaking slams a guy so hard into the ground that they're both taken off the field, so that was pretty awesome to witness.

Stiles makes his peace cheering from the sidelines for now, but for once he has some hope. This is the first game and there will be plenty more so Stiles will get his chance. He's sure of it.

The game ends with a score of 7 to 5 in favor of Stiles' team. They celebrate on the bus ride home with music and bite-sized candies that Coach Crawford brought along, to which Stiles almost gets violent over a miniature Milky Way with some dude who plays first-line. He vaguely recalls the guys name from tryouts, Isaac Lahey. He also recalls someone mentioning to him to not mess with the kid because he's got 'issues' and Derek Hale as protection. Stiles doesn't exactly know what 'issues' means, but he's not a fighter, so he lets him have it.

Once they're back at the school Stiles walks to his Jeep alone. His only real friends on the lacrossse team are Derek and Boyd, who happen to have other friends - like Jackson - that they'd rather hang out with. However, Derek does corner him just as he's about to drive away.

"Stiles wait!" Stiles hears, making him put the car into neutral.

Stiles hangs his head out the window in order to see the person better. "Hey Derek. What's up?"

Derek falters, almost as if warring with himself to do or say something, but then blurts it out anyways. "I need your help. With calculus. I need a tutor and I heard you're really good."

That catches Stiles off guard. That is not at all what he was expecting. He's not sure what he was expecting, but definitely not this. "Um... okay." He says. "But, who told you I was so good? I'll have to thank them."

Derek smiles a little and his shoulders visibly relax. "My girlfriend, Jennifer. You guys met on some unfortunate terms, but I promise she's not as bad as you probably think."

"Right." Stiles says, mood soured by the mention of her. 

Apparently, Derek doesn't notice. "Hey, you know what?" He starts, "Why don't we all go out to eat? I can formally introduce you and you can get to know her as I do."

Nope. Nope. No way. Not gonna happen. 

"I don't think that's a good idea-"

"It'll be fun. I swear." Derek says as he holds out his little pinky finger.

After a moment Stiles relents, linking his finger with Derek's. "I swear to god if she gets overprotective of you I'm going to laugh in her face." He says as he draws his hand back into his car.

Derek smiles.

"I'm serious. I'm like five leagues below you and I'm 98% positive you can handle yourself."

"Only 98%? What about the other 2?" Derek says, quirking an eyebrow. 

Stiles smirks. "That 2% accounts for the fact that you're actually a big baby and you're super sweet, so I'm not sure if you'd have the heart to use all that muscle against someone."

That earns him a laugh. "I am not a baby!" Derek defends. "I could pummel you."

Stiles snaps his fingers. "That's what I'm saying! You could, but would you?"

Derek doesn't say anything, he just smiles, so Stiles knows he's won.

"I have to get going," Derek finally says. "I'll catch you later, okay?" 

Stiles nods. "See ya." And he pulls away.

•.•.•.•

Dereks house is enormous. Stiles knew that the guy was pretty wealthy, but this was just ridiculous. It's practically a mansion. For a brief moment, Stiles is relieved that they decided to meet here, because his own house would dwarf in comparison. Dereks house also happens to be in the middle of the woods, so Stiles figures his family must have all sorts of money to own part of the reserve.

Stiles only rings the doorbell once before it's being thrown open. He's greeted by piercing brown eyes that resemble none like he's ever seen before on a very slender girl.

"Who the hell are you?" The girl demands.

Admitingly, she scares Stiles; he really wasn't expecting such hostility when he hasn't done anything yet. But he recovers quickly enough to answer, "Um. I'm Stiles. I'm looking for Derek Hale?" It's not a question, but he says it like it's one. _Maybe I'm at the wrong place? I pretty sure this is the address he gave me._

The girl stares at him for a second, and then turns her head and shouts, "Derek, you have a guest!" When she turns back to Stiles, she looks genuinely bored. "You can head up to his room. It's up those stairs and the last door on the right." Then she turns on her heel and disappears into the house.

It takes Stiles a second to process this interaction before he steps across the threshold and closes the door behind him. He'll have to ask Derek about the girl when he sees him.

The room isn't hard to find. It's just where the girl said it would be. The door is slightly ajar, so Stiles knocks before entering slowly. It's empty. It's also huge. Like that should be a surprise. On the left is a desk, complete with a computer and a black rolling chair. In the center is Dereks bed, which features navy-blue blankets and a small bedside table that has nothing on it besides a lamp and... a sonic screwdriver? He has no choice. He takes a seat on Dereks bed, sets his backpack on the floor next to his feet, and goes to make sure his eyes aren't deceiving him.

"Are you kidding me?" Stiles mutters to himself. _Derek's a fucking nerd. This is great. This is gold._

Whilst he's fiddling around with the screwdriver - it happens to be the one Stiles doesn't have, the tenth doctors - Derek enters through the door. He has a towel around his waist, no shirt on, and is rubbing another towel through his hair. He doesn't seem to notice Stiles is there, probably because the towel he's drying his hair with is blocking his vision.

Stiles takes a moment to admire the view. It's not like he hasn't seen Derek shirtless before, but shirtless and only a towel around his waist, now that's a sight to remember. After a few seconds of completely inappropriate ogling, Stiles puts the sonic screwdriver down and decides to make himself noticed. "Nice Winnie the Pooh towel you got there."

Derek turns his head so quick Stiles is afraid he may have broken something. Then, once he realizes what Stiles said and that Stiles is not a threat, he blushes. "My real towel is dirty, asshole." Derek says, throwing said towel at Stiles' face. "And Winnie the Pooh is an icon."

That makes Stiles grin. "And uh, what about this?" He teases, twirling around the sonic screwdriver. 

Dereks face gets more red, and Stiles' heart does a funny thing in his chest. "I watch Doctor Who. That's not crime or anything."

"It is if you're the six-foot-pure-muscle captain of the lacrosse team." Stiles counters, setting the screwdriver aside.

Derek gives him a look, a look that says 'I swear I hate you sometimes'. Stiles is used to this kind of look, so he winks and that's a suitable response.

"Hey so, do you mind turning around for a minute while I change?" Derek asks shyly. "I'm not really comfortable just showing people my junk."

Stiles can feel his face turn red as his eyes involuntarily fall to the towel around Dereks waist. Underneath that, is nothing. He lets himself trace the curves of Dereks chest; his eyes catch on each nipple and his brain goes into overdrive at the sight of his abs. The only thing that breaks his trance is when Stiles catches sight of Dereks happy trail and the deep 'v' that his hips make and Stiles' breath hitches so he looks away.

"I'm sorry. Yea. Go ahead." He says, voice tight. He wills himself to forget everything he just saw. He tries to think about gross things, like seeing his dad naked or Scott taking a shit. It only helps a little.

"Okay." Derek says eventually. "I'm done."

Stiles takes one deep breath before turning back around. This time, Derek is fully clothed in thin pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt. 

"Okay so- Calculus." Stiles starts, only to distract himself from Dereks damp hair that clings to his forehead and makes his eyes seem brighter. 

"Yes. I was thinking we could start with parabolas." Derek gathers some stuff from his desk and tucks a leg underneath him as he sits across from Stiles on his bed.

Stiles nods, and then remembers the girl from before. "Hey quick question before we start, who was the girl who answered the door? She had brown eyes, real thin, straight hair?"

Derek smiles a little. "Oh that's Cora. She's my younger sister."

Well, that makes sense. "Dude I didn't know you had a sister." Stiles says.

"Actually I have two." Stiles makes a face that draws a laugh out of him. "Yea, Cora is younger, but I have another sister off at NYU. Her name's Laura."

Stiles can see the little tilt of Derek's lips and the crinkle by his eyes when he talks about his sisters. It's adorable, really. 

"I'm an only child so, no sibling surprises here."

Derek nods, understanding. "Yea. My parents aren't usually home, but you might catch sight of my uncle Peter. If you ever do, don't make eye contact, just run."

Stiles laughs. "Oh c'mon." He teases. "This guy can't possibly be as scary as you."

"Okay first, I am not scary." Derek's eyesbrows and resting bitch face don't make him very convincing. "And second, he's not real scary, just creepy. And weird. Honestly I don't know why my mom keeps him around."

Stiles adjusts his notebook on his lap. "Alright alright. Let's get to work, yea?"

Derek nods, and they work on parabolas for the next two hours.


	7. Scrub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer Blake is not someone I like. I think she gets worse than what she is here??? Stay tuned buddies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this is my second update this week because I rushed through this long-ass chapter and y'all had to wait a while for that last chapter so HERE!!!! Also, I'm setting up a schedule. I'll post a new chapter every Monday night because that's after Teen Wolf episodes air on Sundays and I can get into the mood.

Stiles is freaking out.

"Scott, I'm freaking out." He tells his best friend one day after they've just exited the movie theatre.

Scott, who's still munching on leftover M&M's from the stash he and Stiles snuck in with, gives him a look. "Why, what's up?"

It had been bothering Stiles for the entirety of the movie, so much so that he couldn't even focus on the amazing CGI and fight scenes of the latest installment in the Avengers franchise.

"Today I'm supposed to go out with Derek and his girlfriend. Mean, bitchy girlfriend. Jennifer Blake, girlfriend."

Scott nods, tossing back a handful of colorful candies. "What's the issue? Just play nice."

"I'm not good at playing nice." Stiles says just as they reach his Jeep. "I don't want to lose Derek but damn his girlfriend is a piece of work."

Scott climbs into the passenger seat with his thinking face on. That face is never a good sign. "So I'll come with you."

Alright. That's definitely not happening. "Scott, I would thank you, but that's actually a horrible idea." 

"No, it isn't." Scott defends. "Derek wants you to be on good terms with someone important in his life, Jennifer, and you want him to be on good terms with me. Your best friend."

Stiles considers it for a moment. It kind of makes sense. If you squint. And tilt your head a little. And think really, really hard about it.

Scott takes his hesitation as encouragement. "When are you supposed to go? I'll borrow my moms car."

In the future, Stiles will think this whole thing through and realize this is where he went wrong. However, right now, he concedes. "After lacrosse practice."

"Wait, isn't that only on school days?"

Stiles starts up the Jeep and pulls out of the parking lot. "Boyd makes me practice on Saturdays now. I've been getting a lot better, though."

Scott nods, crumpling his M&M bag and stuffing it in his pocket. "Great. Now can you drop me off at Allisons?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. 

•.•.•.•

Practice goes on without a hitch. It's just him and Boyd today, because Derek is busy. Probably with his girlfriend. Probably convincing her to show up because lord know she doesn't like Stiles' face almost as much as Stiles dislikes hers. It's a relationship he'd be fine with if it weren't for Derek.

"Hey, snap out of it." He hears Boyd say because apparently Stiles stopped tossing the ball against the wall, catching it, and then throwing it back. He resumes this process as Boyd goes on. "I'm going to have Derek talk to the coach so you can re-audition."

That catches Stiles' attention. "Wait, seriously?" He hears the lacrosse ball thump to the floor.

Boyd doesn't really nod, but he moves his head in what is probably as close to a nod as a guy like Boyd can give. "Yes. We both believe that at this point you're better than Greenberg, so you'll be taking his place."

Stiles grins. "Dude, thank you." He gives Boyd an awkward hug - awkward because Boyd does not hug back - and goes back to pick up the ball, attacking this exercise with a new vigor.

By the time Scott pulls into the parking lot, Stiles is sweaty and gross and all sorts of sticky. 

"Stiles. You ready to go?" Scott asks, casting a glance over to Boyd.

Stiles catches the ball one last time before turning to address his friend. "Yea I just have to stop home and shower first."

Scott nods like he was gonna say the same thing, like he can smell Stiles from his position 20-feet away. Boyd raises an eyebrow, reminding Stiles of his own inability to keep up with formalities.

"Oh um, Scott this is Boyd." Stiles finally introduces. "Boyd, this is Scott. Scott's my best friend, Boyd's my lacrosse buddy." 

The two shake hands and greetings and all-too-soon they bid farewell.

The ride to Stiles' house is filled with loud music because without the distraction of lacrosse, Stiles is panicking about this dinner with Derek and Jennifer. He takes his time washing up and is stalling by being indecisive about his outfit.

"I can't pick between the dark jeans or the lighter ones." Stiles explains to a tired-looking Scott. "If I wear the light jeans I'll have to wear a dark shirt, and then I might get too warm. But a light shirt would show the inevitable nervous pit-stains. So either way I lose."

Scott sighs from his place on Stiles' bed. "Wear the dark jeans, they're nicer. And hurry up. You don't want Jennifer to complain about you being late."

Stiles grumbles, "Fine, fine." Then he remembers that he still hasn't told Scott the good news. "Hey," he says, turning away from his closet. "Boyd told me at practice today that he and Derek are going to talk to the coach so I can tryout again. They think I'm good enough to play first line."

Scotts previously emotionless expression turns giddy in an instant. It's one of the reasons Stiles loves him: he's so easily excitable. And distracted. Easily excitable and distracted. "Dude, for real?" 

Stiles nods. "Yea man. I'm gonna kick your _ass_ when we face off."

That makes Scott grin. "Don't get cocky, or you'll live regret it. And stop stalling. I know what you're doing and it's not going to work."

Stiles can feel himself blush a little. So maybe Scott is _not_ so easily distracted. "I'm not trying to avoid Derek," he confesses, "but his girlfriend is insane. This is not something I'm looking foreword to."

Without a response from Scott, Stiles pulls on the jeans and a light blue plaid shirt. "Alright. I think I'm good."

If a bit oo quickly, Scott jumps up and darts for the door. "Great. I am definitely looking forward to meeting this dude. And who knows, maybe Jennifer will recognize me."

A thought that had never occurred to Stiles but now was the only thing running through his head. Jennifer recognizing Scott would be the absolute worst thing. She recognized Stiles, though, so chances are...

•.•.•.•

They agreed to meet up at the Park Diner because it was relatively clean, cheap, and right across the street from a rather large park. Derek probably plans on going for a nice walk and maybe playing around on the swings after dinner - because that's the kind of guy Derek Hale is - while Stiles has his heart set on bolting out the door as soon as he pays his portion of the check.

Belatedly, Stiles realizes he never notified Derek of the change in guests. He never actually told him that he was bringing Scott. It definitely explains the look he receives when he finally arrives and sits down with his plus-one.

"Stiles, hi." Derek says slowly, casting his eyes to Scott curiously.

Stiles mentally slaps himself. "Derek. Right. So this is Scott," Scott gives a little wave, "he's my best friend and he really wanted to meet you."

Scott nods. "I'm Scott. Stiles has told me tons about you-"

Stiles cuts him off with a kick underneath the table. "So uh, where's Jennifer?" He changes the subject.

Derek sits up a little straighter. "Actually, she's just arrived."

Simultaneously, Scott and Stiles turn around in the booth to see Jennifer walking in. They watch as she says something to the hostess, and then turns on her heel, taking approximately two and a half steps before stopping again and lowering her sunglasses (it's 7pm in the fall so god knows why she's wearing those). Presumably, she's just done 'the worst'.

"Is that Scott McCall?" Her shrill voice rings out across the diner and she clicks her way to Derek's side of the booth.

"Hey, Jennifer." Scott says as Jennifer takes off her sunglasses and gives Derek a quick once-over. For some reason, that bothers Stiles. No kiss or hello or any sort of real acknowledgement whatsoever. 

"I haven't seen you since what, third grade?" Jennifer continues, ignoring Stiles and Derek completely. Stealing a glance, Derek doesn't seem to be phased at all. Almost like, like he's used to it, which, _are you fucking kidding me?_

"Just about." Scott answers. "I'm here for moral support, for Stiles."

Jennifer doesn't even flinch at the mention of his name, but slowly, as if she never planned on acknowledging him at all but now felt obligated to, she turns and greets him.

"Oh. Hi, Stiles. Almost didn't see you there." The laugh she gives is fake. Stiles knows it. But he offers a smile in return. _Play nice, for Derek_ , he reminds himself. 

Most of the night is spent like this. They get their food, Jennifer and Scott chat. The waiter comes to ask if everything's okay, Scott tries - and is interrupted by Jennifer - to engage Stiles in conversation. Jennifer gets a refill on her hot chocolate, Derek makes a comment about her hair that gets blatantly ignored. 

The check is a godsend. Stiles pays for him and Scott, Jennifer gives some excuse about leaving her wallet and finally, _finally_ , shows Derek some attention because he offers to pay for her. As Stiles suspected, Derek suggests they all go on a walk through the park. Before Stiles can protest, Jennifer grins and grabs Scott by the forearm, dragging him across the street and forcing Derek and Stiles to follow suit.

Stiles can see the crease of Derek's eyebrows as they walk. The guy must know that Jennifer is ignoring him.

"Derek." Stiles begins, speaking low because Jennifer and Scott are babbling not too far ahead of them. "Are you okay?"

Derek gives him a quizzical look. "What? Yea I'm fine. Why?"

"Because Jennifer..." Stiles motions in her direction, "and Scott..." he thinks his point is clear. Derek isn't getting it.

"They're hitting it off. It's nice to see our friends can get along just as good as we can."

Stiles scoffs because one: he and Derek don't really 'get along'; and two: Jennifer is doing more than 'getting along' with Scott. Stiles can clearly recall all the times Jennifer leaned over the table, exposing her cleavage to Scott in the deep v-neck she was wearing. He can count on one hand the number of times she said something to anyone besides Scott, including the hostess and waiter. Jennifer is flirting. And it doesn't matter that Scott is head-over-heels for someone else because Jennifer is flirting and she's doing it right in front of Derek's perfect fucking face and Derek is oblivious.

"You can't- she's flirting with him, Derek." Stiles motions again.

Derek pulls a sour face. "No she's not." He bristles. "She's being friendly. She's being the nice and outgoing person that I know her to be."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Derek take a fucking look."

Derek does not look, but if he did, he would be able to see the hand Jennifer has on Scotts bicep as she giggles, and Scott laughs awkwardly, shaking her off because Scott knows exactly what she's doing. Just as Stiles knows exactly what she's doing.

"Stiles I set this up so you guys could get to know each other. Just because she's a cheerleader doesn't mean she's some kind of slut. She's my girlfriend, and I don't like what you're implying."

Stiles catches the way Dereks breath is getting increasingly rapid and his eyes are going dark. Obviously, the man is getting angry, and frankly Stiles does not ever want to meet angry-Derek, so he spasms his arms and gives up. If Derek wants to live a life of denial and innocence, Stiles won't take that away from him.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll drop it." Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and looks straight ahead, staring past his friend and the girl who's turning out to be real fucking asshole. He doesn't try to talk to Derek again, and Derek doesn't talk to him, so they both glare in silence at the spaces ahead of them until the parking lot comes into view and they've officially walked a circle around the whole park.

"Oh my gosh Scott it was so great catching up with you." Jennifer says, holding her arms out for a hug.

Scott obliges, but Stiles can see the hesitation there. Can see that Scott really doesn't want to hug this girl. 

"Yea. Great catching up with you, too, Jennifer. I'll see you around." Scott waves a goodbye to both Derek and Jennifer, and then makes a dash to the car. Jennifer gives Stiles a look before taking Derek by the arm and smiling up at him.

"Hey, babe, let's get out of here, yea?"

And Derek doesn't even get to wave goodbye to Stiles because Jennifer drags him away and grasps his hands and shows him all the love and attention that she'd previously been trying to gauge out of Scott. A sick feeling twists around in Stiles' stomach as he makes his way back to the car. He wants to let this go, because he doesn't want to push away Derek, but he's not entirely sure he can.


	8. Quit While You're Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles resolves to be a home wrecker but it's for a good cause??? Also, cute stuff between your faves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this is being posted Tuesday morning, not Monday night, but they're basically the same thing as long as I never fall asleep.  
> Also, WARNING, there's some math in this and idk how accurate it is cuz I haven't been in school for a while but I know lots of people don't like math so.

Scott is unnerved.

"Stiles you have no idea how uncomfortable I was." Scott is telling him as he drives Stiles home.

Stiles nods his head. "Dude, she was all over you and Derek was right there. _Right spanking there_." He taps the dashboard for emphasis.

"That's what made it more awakward." Scott argues, letting his hands fly off the steering wheel for a split second. "All I could think about that whole time was Allison. I didn't want to disappoint her."

Stiles looks out the window and watches the trees fade away behind them. "I could see you were uncomfortable, and I appreciate your efforts to try and derail her, no matter how many times you failed." He shoots a small smile in Scott's direction. "But _man_ ," He resumes. "Derek didn't even notice a thing. And he got real defensive when I brought it up."

"Maybe he's in denial?" Scott offers.

Stiles creases his eyebrows, thinking. "That's a definite possibility. I just, I care about him. I know I've only known him for like, three months, but I'm worried about his relationship with this girl."

Scott gives him a look. A short-lived look, because he's driving, but Stiles still catches the gist of it.

"No, it's not because I like him." Stiles rolls his eyes. "I want him to be happy. And I don't think she's good enough for him."

"Ahh," Scott begins. "You think you could be better."

Stiles can feel the blush creep up on his cheeks. "Oh I know I could be better." He says, making Scott grin.

"I know you could, too, buddy. Although, Jennifer isn't really all that hard to beat."

Stiles punches him in the arm, but he knows his friend right. "I'm gonna try talking to him again. I have to."

Scott nods. "Yea dude. I say go for it. The guy needs to know that she's not committed, it's not fair to him."

By the time Scott pulls up in front of Stiles' house and fist-bumps him goodbye, Stiles' mind is resolved. He's going to break up Derek and Jennifer.

•.•.•.•

When Stiles arrives at school the following Monday, the first person to approach him is Boyd.

"Derek and I talked to the coach. Your second chance is Thursday, after school." Then the guy promptly disappears into a sea of teenagers, not giving Stiles time to formulate a proper response.

During math, he tells Malia about the lacrosse thing and she congratulates him. During lunch, he tells her about the Jennifer thing and she gets this constipated look on her face.

"So, Derek is in a relationship with a cheating skank?" Malia asks, letting Stiles know that this girls brain-to-mouth filter is actually a gaping hole that stops nothing.

"Yea, and he doesn't even realize it." Stiles says, lowering his voice in the hopes that Malia may also lower hers.

"Huh." Malia says. "So why don't you just tell him?"

Stiles scoffs. "I tried and I failed. He doesn't want to hear anything about how his precious little angel could be an actual monster-bitch."

Malia nods, shoveling mashed potatoes into her mouth unconsciously. With a mouth full of potato, she says, "Derek's an idiot."

Stiles has to agree with her.

•.•.•.•

"End behavior is how far the graph extends in either direction across the x-axis." Stiles explains from his position in Derek's desk chair. "With this problem, x to the limit of infinity is infinity because it extends past the limits of this graph, but x to the limit of negative infinity is only negative four because this point here says so."

Derek stares down at his textbook, tapping his pencil against his cheek in thought. Stiles gets sort of mesmerized by the way the pencil bounces back each time.

"I think I get it." Derek says, moving on to the next problem in order to test out his skill. When he comes up with the right answer, Stiles gives him a high-five.

"Dude, what am I even here for? You got this." Stiles jokes.

"This part's simple. That doesn't mean the rest of the stuff in here is." Derek moves to tap the pencil across the pages of his textbook, but looses control and the pencil flies out of his hand, smacking Stiles in the forehead.

Stiles flinches when it hits him, and then blinks.

Derek cracks an extremely toothy grin.

"That was uncalled for." Stiles says finally, watching as Derek retrieves the pencil with the same wild smile on his face.

"Sorry." Derek says, not sounding sorry at all.

Stiles brushes a hand through his hair. "You are mean. Insanely mean to me. I should punch you in your stupidly perfect bunny teeth."

Somehow, Derek's grin grows wider, and he's full-out laughing, and Stiles gets this rush of pride rising in his chest because _he_ put that look on Derek's face. _He_ made Derek laugh like that.

"Oh my god you _ass_." Derek manages to get out in between breaths.

"What did I do?" Stiles asks innocently. "Point out your bunny teeth? I called them perfect!"

Derek covers his face with his hand, presumably to hide his grin and get himself to stop freaking laughing. "My bunny teeth are my own to make fun of. Stick to poking fun at all those crazy little beauty marks that you've got all over your face."

Stiles gasps and clutches at his heart. "You dare mock my most compelling feature? These babies are what landed me extra tater tots in the lunch room." Stiles lightly runs his fingers around his face to draw more attention to where the majority of his birthmarks are visible.

"Sadly, I don't think it was the beauty marks." Derek says. "Though I would be inclined to believe you if you told me it was your eyes."

Cue little flutters within Stiles' chest. "My eyes?" He asks, incredulously. "My eyes are brown, dude. That's the most boring and common eye color in the world. Now _your_ eyes, oh lordy, that's the stuff of fantasy games."

Derek still hasn't stopped smiling, but he has stopped trying to hide it. "You've got these really big doe-eyes." He says as his hands guesture around his face. "They're brown but they're like chocolate or whiskey or something. Plus, have you even seen your eyelashes?"

Stiles can feel heat blossom across his chest and face. "Brown is brown is boring." He argues. "You've got green eyes with bits of yellow and some blue around the edges and I can't even tell you what color they are, man."

"My drivers license says they're just green, thank you very much." Derek retorts. "And stop degrading yourself. You're not ugly or boring, Stiles. Far from it."

He knows it's dumb. He knows Derek is straight and so none of this even matters, but for a brief moment, Stiles believes they actually might have something. Something _good_. But then it's crushed because Stiles reminds himself of Derek's unstartling heterosexuality and obvious male-model status.

"I think we are done here." Stiles says, packing up his notebook and toeing on his shoes. 

"Hey," Derek says, grabbing him around the wrist. "I mean it."

And okay. What was previously fun now hurts entirely too much. The witty banter was great, and the compliments were a little weird for two dudes but still not uncomfortable, but with Derek's eyes bearing into him like that, looking so earnest and almost like he actually cares, Stiles can't deal with that.

"Okay. Great." Stiles squeaks, frozen in place. "Thank you, but I really should go."

Derek holds him there for one more moment before letting go. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you." Stiles calls on his way out the door.


	9. Over and Over Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lacrosse and Jennifer. Yea. That's pretty much it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not what I originally planned it to be but it's 12:30am and my phone is dying (it's at 5% y'all) and I CANT FIND THE CHARGER so here ya go.
> 
> Also, slight warning cuz there's some homophobia. No slurs or anything. I just know that this story is gonna have some of that and this chapter is the first start of it.

The week following the diner incident is rough. He gets lots of looks from Jennifer in math and gets even more looks in the hallway. He hears the same whispers he heard on his first day, although this time they include other key words like "Derek" and "lacrosse". Stiles doesn't know how he feels about that.

On Thursday, when he's on his way to English, someone steps into his path. He tries to make a move around them, but the girl grabs his arm and pulls him into a classroom before he knows what's happening.

"What the hell-" he begins, only to have a hand slapped over his mouth and a finger pointed in his face.

"Stilinski." Jennifer begins, removing her hand from his face. "Can you tell me what the hell you think you're doing?" She demands.

Stiles blinks. "Well, currently, I'm really surprised you know my name. I thought for sure you'd block out anything having to do with me."

She doesn't react. "I mean, what are you doing with my boyfriend? You go over his house every week. If you're trying to seduce him, it's not going to work. He likes girls. Pretty girls. Not scrawny boys."

Stiles raises his eyebrows at her warily. "My dude," he says, "I don't want your boyfriend and I'm not trying to seduce him or whatever the hell you think I'm trying to do. I'm helping him pass his classes so he can play lacrosse and win y'all games."

This is only half true, but Jennifer doesn't need to know that.

Jennifer looks down at him, thinking. "People know you're gay. And they think you're turning Derek gay. So if you could just back off, that'd be for the best."

Oh. Great. So _that's_ what this is about. 

"I'm sorry," he starts. "You want me to give up one of my closest friends because you're a little homophobic?" He asks, not really understanding how she thought that'd be a good approach on him. "You can't turn someone gay. That's not how it works."

"Whatever." Jennifer says, beginning to look angry. "People are talking and what they're saying isn't good for my reputation. Or Derek's. If you're really his friend, then don't talk to him ever again."

Stiles rolls his eyes, done with this crap. He reaches for the doorknob and twists, letting himself out into the hallways just as the bell rings.

"Thanks for making me late." He calls as he begins making his way down the hall.

•.•.•.•

Despite the earlier confrontation, Stiles is pumped. Boyd said he'd get to try out again today, and he knows he's gotten better. The only question is: is it enough? They have a game this weekend, and changing up the team so late could be catastrophic. If he's the reason they lose, there's no way he'll be able to show his face at practice again.

"You got this." Derek says, clasping a hand on his shoulder.

Stiles nods and begins to stuff his gym bag into his locker. 

"Hey." Derek says. "Relax. Seriously."

Stiles looks him in the eye and he does. He relaxes. Then Jackson rounds the corner and shouts, "Lets go Stilinski. We can't wait around all day just to watch you fall on your ass."

And okay. Derek's words of kindness: mildly calming. Jackson's words of mockery: anger-fueling energy.

Stiles slides on his helmet and takes off, meeting the coach on the side of the field. 

"I'm ready." He says, nodding his head.

Coach Crawford looks skeptical, but he tells the guys to set up for a game and they do.

"Alright. Stilinski wants to show us what he's learned." The coach announces. "Then, as a team, we'll decide if he gets a place on first line."

There are some cheers and noises of approval from the rest of the team, and then Stiles is being pushed onto the field and switching to battle-mode.

The coach put Jackson in as an attacker, which Stiles is going to consider a good thing. That means he'll go one-on-one with the sucker he so badly wants to prove wrong. It also means he'll have to really step it up, because Jackson may be an asshole, but he's a damn good lacrosse player.

He starts off well enough. Jackson doesn't get many chances to knock into him and he manages to get the ball over to the attackers on his team. In fact, the goalie on his side doesn't even get to touch the ball once. Stiles melds with the other two defenders and in perfect harmony, they sweep past each other and keep the ball on the other side of the field. It goes surprisingly well, and then the coach is calling everyone back to the stands. Stiles looks over at Boyd as he takes a seat and he swears he sees Boyd smiling. Which is weird because Boyd never smiles.

"Now you've all got a chance to see this boy in action." The coach begins, addressing the whole team. "So I'm asking you to make a decision. Do you want him on first line, or not?"

There's a brief pause where no one seems to know what they're supposed to do, but then someone - Stiles later figures out it's Derek - starts stomping and clapping, and then more people join in and soon enough most of the team is cheering and banging their feet against the metal bleachers.

"Okay okay." The coach interrupts, getting the guys to settle down. "I'll have a quick talk with the captains and we'll get back to you."

Derek and Jackson both rise and make their way down just as the coach orders, "And get to running! Suicides until I get back!"

The team collectively groans, but they get to running. Boyd immediately starts running next to him and Stiles quirks an eyebrow.

"Got something you wanna say?" Stiles teases.

Boyd is back to being expressionless and not even breaking a sweat. "You did good. I think you'll make it."

Stiles nods, but it might look more like a spasm because he's running and everything looks awkward except foreword-propelling movements. "Don't forget, I've got a man on the inside." He adds.

Boyd makes a noise of agreement, knowing exactly who he's referring to, and that's that. They keep running until the coach and two captains come back out onto the field.

"Stop running, boys, we've made our decision." Coach Crawford says.

Stiles makes his way with the rest of the team until they form a crowd around the coach. He catches sight of the sour look on Jackson's face and almost misses the wink that Derek's directed at him. It puts a smile on his face and he knows what went down even before the coach announces, "Stilinski will be replacing Greenberg on first line."

He receives tons of slaps on the back and basks in the cheers of his teammates. Back in the locker room, he dresses slow and realizes that he's content. Really, really content for just about the first time since he transferred schools. Maybe it's because he finally feels like he belongs someplace here, or maybe it's because he gets to shove it in Scott's face, but he feels really good.

"Look," he hears Jackson say, interrupting his internal happy-dance. "Just because you're first line doesn't mean shit. I'm captain, and you still suck. Literally, and figuratively." Stiles catches a couple of guys snickering at that and he glares at them.

"I don't know what I did to wrong you," Stiles starts, "but I'm sorry. I'm just trying to live, man."

Jackson scoffs. "I own you, Stilinski. Don't play games."

Stiles has literally no idea what this guy is talking about, but he guesses it doesn't much matter because Derek comes up and grabs Jackson by the shoulder.

"Hey. Back off." Derek orders, glaring down at the other guy. 

Jackson looks between them and smiles. "Aw, come to save your little boyfriend?"

Stiles can feel his face begin to burn, and he looks up to see Derek's turning red as well. Probably because of anger. And embarrassment. Because he sure as hell does not like Stiles.

"Shut up." Derek practically yells. "Leave."

Mad!Derek is very monosyllabic, Stiles notes.

Jackson leaves all the same, and then it's just Stiles and Derek. Not for the first time, Stiles' heart starts beating faster as Derek looks at him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Derek asks, making sure to keep his distance.

Stiles feels a weight drop onto him but he nods. "Yea, no I'm fine. He's just being an ass."

Derek seems to agree. "Congrats on making first line, though." He smiles.

Woo. Little butterflies just burst out of their damned cocoons inside Stiles' stomach because damn that smile always just _does it_ for him. Like, that smile just makes him fall all over again. It's wonderful. And it sucks.

"I really have to thank you and Boyd." Stiles manages to say. "You guys whipped me into shape."

He watches the draw of Derek's eyebrows. "You put in the work. You deserve it."

And all Stiles can do now is smile up at him. This guy who has so much faith in him, for what? What on earth could Stiles have done that made this dude believe in him so much?

"So I've been meaning to ask," Derek says, catching Stiles' attention again. "Would you be down to come to my family's New Years Party? We have one very year at the Hale house."

"Um." Stiles replies, very intelligently.

"My family lets me invite a couple friends each year. It would be really cool if you came." Derek continues.

Stiles takes a moment to breath because while this sounds a lot like a date, it's obviously not. It's a party. With a friend. And the friends' family. 

"Yea. I can go." Stiles agrees. "I'll just tell my dad that he'll have to take his beer over to Ms.McCalls house."

Derek looks slightly confused, probably because he has no idea who Ms.McCall is, but he smiles nonetheless. "Alright great. I can't wait for you to meet my older sister, Laura. And my parents, oh god they're going to love you more than they love me."

And the butterflies are back. Stiles forces them down as he talks, "Laura... Laura... I think you mentioned her once. She's the one that attends NYU?"

Derek nods, looking pleased that Stiles remembers. "That's the one. She's a whole different brand of Hale."

"If I can handle you, I can handle her." Stiles teases, poking at Derek's stomach.

Derek retracts quickly and knocks his hand away, almost as if he's... ticklish. Or something. Stiles makes a mental note to test out this theory at a later time.

"Trust me," Derek says, grinning. "She's way worse."

Stiles also makes a mental note to be prepared for the apparent threat that is Laura Hale.

Derek starts gathering his things and Stiles takes that as his cue to go.

"I'll see you later." He calls as he exits.

Derek catches up to him outside and stops him.

"Wait." He says. "One more thing."

Stiles looks up at him expectantly. "Yea sure. What is it?"

Derek gets that shy look on his face again. The same look he had when he asked Stiles to tutor him. "Could you, maybe, sing at the party?"

Stiles' whole face burns. He really thought Derek had forgotten all about that. 

"Wha-what? No I couldn't-"

"Please." Derek interrupts. "My mom loves live performances and always makes sure to have a karaoke system set up."

"I don't sing." Stiles argues. "I never sing. And definitely not in front of people." He starts backing towards his Jeep, trying to find a way out of this before he becomes more embarrassed.

"At least think about it?" Derek resolves, quirking an eyebrow and wow. Okay. 

"Maybe." Stiles says, and that seems to be enough.


	10. News Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erica Reyes makes her debut! Laura Hale makes her debut!! And Stiles has plans that he really needs to act upon, jeez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was no update last week cuz my family moved south like five states and my phone died on the car ride there and we took the drive on a Monday and this chapter was nowhere near done. But, it's here today! I hope y'all enjoy.

While having only a few friends at this new school is perfectly fine with Stiles - after all, no one of them could even come close to replacing Scott - it seems a few of the students here have a different idea.

"I never see anyone sit here besides you two."

Stiles turns as this leather-wearing blonde takes a seat at his and Malia's table.

"Hi..." Stiles says, drawing out the word in a way that hopefully expresses his underlying meaning of, _who the heck are you and what are you doing here?_

Meanwhile, Malia has a similar idea. 

"Who the hell are you?" She asks, looking vaguely offended by the new girls presence.

"Erica Reyes." Leather-girl introduces with a smile. "I'm a friend of Derek's." She says to Stiles, like that means something.

"Oh, that's great." Stiles says, still very confused. "Did he need me or...?"

Erica smiles. "Nope. I'm here because I want to be. I heard the new kid was pretty cute, so I decided to come check for myself."

Erica's giving him a _look_ , and Stiles can feel his face heat up. He has no idea who told her that he was cute - definitely not Derek, _that_ he knows for sure - but he's flattered all the same.

"So you're here to, what? Make friends?" Malia asks accusingly.

Settling into her seat more, Erica nods. "That's the goal. I've heard quite a bit about you, too, Malia."

Malia looks taken aback. 

"Yea," Erica continues. "Mostly about how you're very pretty but appear to have some anger issues."

Stiles watches as Malia goes back to her math textbook and mumbles something about 'working on it' before another body slots itself at his lunch table, right next to Erica.

"Hi Stiles." Boyd greets as Erica places a kiss on his cheek and he slips his hand around her waist.

"Um hi." Stiles says because _what_? Boyd is dating someone? And that someone is Erica Reyes? Not who he'd really imagine together. Ever. But if it works for them...

"What are you up to?" Boyd asks Erica, giving her the tiniest hint of a smile which wow. Boyd. Almost smiling. Not a lot of things can make that happen.

Erica grins back at him. "I'm just making friends, I promise. It's all innocent."

Boyd glances at Stiles, and Stiles has to wonder what alternate universe he just stepped into because everything is upside down right now.

"I think you scared him." Boyd whispers.

"Nonsense." Erica says. "He's mesmerized by my amazing everything."

Stiles blinks and watches his old friend and this apparently new friend chat up a storm about a plethora of things from school to melting ice caps to whether or not it's reasonable to eat sunflower seeds with the shells still on.

He'll often find something to say on the topics himself - because he's Stiles Stilinski and he can talk about anything, anywhere - and discovers that Erica is actually freaking amazing. Boyd landed himself a good one. 

•.•.•.•

Stiles knocks on the door and shuffles his weight nervously as he waits for it to be answered. He's got his usual study season with Derek except this time, this time he's going to bring up Jennifer. Voluntarily. He's made lists in his head, prepping for this moment, and even if he's not emotionally ready, he can't wait any longer. He can't make _Derek_ wait any longer.

Cora answers the door, just like on his first day here, and let's him inside without any questions. 

"Dereks in the kitchen, by the way." She says and then - as she always does - disappears.

Making his way to the kitchen, Stiles overhears some voices. One of them is obviously Derek, but the other, who knows?

He peeks his head around a corner and catches Derek's eye.

"-mom would feel about it." Derek finishes saying as he motions for Stiles to come closer.

Stiles enters slowly and takes in the woman who Derek was just talking to. Her dark hair, thick eyebrows, and well-defined jawline already mark her as a Hale, but Stiles recognizes her from countless pictures he's seen on Facebook and Instagram.

"Hi." Laura greets with a wave. "I'm Laura, and you must be Stiles. Derek's told me so much about you."

He feels his face grow warm and sneaks a look at Derek, who's also looking embarrassed.

"Yea, that's me." Stiles answers with a smile. "I just uh- help Derek study. For calculus."

Laura doesn't even glance at Derek, but she gets this glint in her eyes that sort of scares Stiles, and he's beginning to think it's time for him to go.

"So, I can come back another day." Stiles offers, raising his eyebrows in Derek's direction. "If you wanted to uh- spend time with your sister, or whatever."

Words are hard right now. Stiles doesn't know why. But they just... are.

Derek goes to say something, but Laura cuts him off with a wave of her hand. "Nah." She says. "You two go have fun." And then she walks over to Derek - who's about three inches taller than her - pats his cheek and leaves, brushing a hand over Stiles' shoulder as she passes.

Derek lets out a breath. "So that was Laura." He says, sounding amused.

Stiles gives him a lopsided smile. "She seems great. I didn't gauge much from our introductions, but I'm assuming she'll be at the New Years party?" It's not really a question, but Stiles says it like it's one, and Derek nods.

"Actually she has to come this year." Derek says as he pushes himself away from the counter and beckons for Stiles to follow him upstairs. "She's been in a serious relationship with a college friend for about eleven months now, and my mom hasn't even met him yet."

Nodding, Stiles takes his place on the edge of Derek's bed with one leg tucked underneath him. "Ahhh. I understand. I don't have any siblings, but I imagine my dad would want the same thing if it were me off at college all the way across the country."

Derek doesn't take out his notebooks or anything. Instead, he crawls onto the other side of the bed and stretches out.

"I don't really feel like studying, if that's okay with you." Derek says, yawning and locking his hands behind his head.

Stiles nods and sets his bag down on the floor. "No yea. That's fine." 

Except, if they're not studying, then why is he here? To hang out? Because he's never actually done that. Just him and Derek, in Derek's bedroom, not studying but just chilling. That's not something they do.

"Hey, you alright?" Derek asks because of course he noticed Stiles is internally freaking out.

"What? No, yea. Totally fine." Stiles lies. "I was just- thinking."

Derek quirks an eyebrow and asks the dreaded question that Stiles really can't answer truthfully, "About what?"

"Um," Stiles starts, searching around the room for any help. He finds none. "School. College. Y'know, normal stuff."

Derek nods like he understands, but Stiles can tell the guy doesn't believe him.

"Cool cool. Do you know what you want to be?"

In all their conversations, they'd never even thought to discuss college. It was such a huge part of high school society, yet they'd always managed to find something else to rant about or explain. Until now.

"Yea I want to go into criminal justice, law enforcement type stuff." Stiles answers as he feels his heartbeat speed up. For some reason, talking about the future always gets him antsy. He doesn't even know why. It's not like his career is all that risky. It just freaks him out to see how people will react to his ambitions, he guesses.

"Like a cop or like CIA?" Derek says.

Stiles looks over to find Dereks eyes are closed like he's drifting off to sleep. The dork. He's really tired at five in the afternoon.

"FBI. There's this college in Virginia I'm looking into, but I don't know if my dad wants me to go so far. I really want to get a full college experience, with the whole dorming and stuff, at least just to try it out."

Stiles keeps talking until he hears Derek's breathing even out and he knows the guy has fallen asleep. Maybe he should feel bad, because Derek literally just fell asleep while Stiles was talking to him, but Stiles doesn't. He feels great, actually. Derek was so comfortable with him that he fell asleep and trusted Stiles in his room. Derek let Stiles drone on and on, as much as Stiles wanted, and relaxed to the sound of Stiles' voice. So yea. He feels fan-freaking-tastic as he makes his way home in his old beat-up Jeep.

•.•.•.•

So Boyd and Erica have apparently taken a permanent spot at Stiles' lunch table. He doesn't know where they used to sit, but it doesn't much matter because he knows they sit with him now.

During lunch, the day after Stiles talked Derek to sleep, Stiles catches sight of Jennifer in his lunch period. He knows for a fact that she has the next lunch period, so she easily catches his eye. Making his way to his table with his lunch tray, he watches as Jennifer plops onto one of the table-tops across the lunch room and flips her hair out of her face. She's leaning back on her hands - which pushes out her chest - and talking to none other than Jackson Whittemore.

"Shit." Stiles mutters as he sits.

"What's wrong?" Malia asks, turning to follow his gaze. 

"You know Jennifer right?"

Malia gives him a glare that says something like, _how could I not?_

Stiles shakes his head. "Alright so, Jennifer is over there flirting with Jackson. I'm sure of it."

Boyd and Erica arrive simultaneously, but Erica is the one to ask, "What's all the fuss about?"

Malia juts her chin in the direction of Jennifer. "She's being a cheating skank." She says simply.

While Boyd takes a second to observe, Erica doesn't. "Oh yea, I know." She says, ripping open a ketchup packet. "I know a flirt when I see one. Plus, I walked by them earlier and she was totally chatting him up like she wants the D."

Normally, Stiles would be surprised at such vulgarity from a girl, but right now, he's too enraged.

"I fucking hate her." He turns to Boyd. "How do you let him date her? Can't you see she's a horrible person? I know you're not oblivious."

Boyd pulls an exasperated look. "We've tried." He says, referring to Erica and himself. "Derek doesn't listen."

"She's actually banned from his house because his parents dislike her so much." Erica adds.

Stiles sighs. "I have to talk to him. I meant to do it yesterday but he was so tired and then he just fell asleep and I didn't say anything because he was in such a good mood. His sister had just come down, y'know? But fuck if you think I can let this continue."

"Stiles, I told you. We've tried already." Boyd starts to argue, but is cut off by Erica.

"I think Stiles can do it." She says, smiling at him. "If anyone can, I'm sure it's you."

That makes Stiles blush despite his sour mood. He's a sucker for compliments, honestly.

"I'm doing something today." Stiles says, taking out his phone. He quickly snaps a picture of Jennifer leaning over and picking a baby carrot off of Jacksons tray, while Jackson keeps a hand on her thigh. "I _have_ to do something today." He resolves.

**-Stiles: dude. you free tonight?**

****

****

**Scott: I'm always free for you, Stiles ;)**

****

****

**-Stiles: no, Scott. I need you for serious stuff right now**

****

****

**Scott: Sorry.**

****

****

**Scott: But yea I'm free.**

****

****

**-Stiles: great. i'll text you the address**


	11. Two-Way Street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What even is love?
> 
> And how can you even tell who's gay and who isn't? What kind of nonsense?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I just did this whole thing within an hour and a half and I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, so I hope it's still good.
> 
> Also, if you're unaware, I'm only updating every other week now cuz school and college stuff and work so I don't have that much free time anymore. Sorry!

When Stiles knocks on the door and Cora answers, she looks a little surprised.

"Scott? What the hell are you doing here?" She asks accusingly, and Stiles' mind is so preoccupied that he doesn't even think to question how these two already know each other.

"I brought him to see Derek." Stiles says, trying to peer around her and into the house. "Is he home?"

Cora nods warily and lets them inside.

"I'm here for moral support." Scott says to her as they make their way up the stairs.

More surprised than Cora is probably Derek.

"Scott? Um, hi." Derek says, looking at Stiles for an explanation.

"Hey, Derek." Scott says, looking apologetic.

And this is Stiles' moment; this is what he came here for. _Jennifer is a raging, cheating bitch and everyone else already knows this, but you're stubborn and you won't let her go and I'm here to help you get your head out of your ass._

"Scott needs help with math, too." Is what winds up coming out instead, and god-freaking-dammit that's not what he meant to say. "I figured I could save time and kill two birds with one stone by tutoring you both at the same time. Sorry that I didn't ask you if that was okay, first, I just kind of assumed. I probably shouldn't have done that. Is it? Okay, I mean. Is it okay because I can totally just have Scott wait-"

Derek holds up his hands. "Stiles, Stiles." He says, "Its fine, I swear."

And Stiles still doesn't relax, at all, but he motions for Scott to sit at Derek's desk and he takes a place on the floor.

"Okay, yea." He breaths. Well, he can't bring up Jennifer now, but he has to eventually. Today. Soon. "Um, logarithms. Real simple, most of the work can be done on a calculator."

Scott slowly takes his notebook out of his backpack - Stiles had picked him up from school - but he's definitely confused as to what Stiles is doing. Hell, Stiles is confused as to what Stiles is doing.

A few minutes into the lesson, Scott makes an executive decision or something and starts to bring it up.

"So, Derek," he starts, and Stiles shoots him a glance that says something along the lines of _don't you fucking dare._

Scott clears his throat. "How are you and Jennifer?"

Stiles wants to kill Scott. And then probably Derek. And Cora. And himself. And literally anyone within a 50 mile radius. But he doesn't, for obvious reasons. And instead he resolves to burn a hole in Derek's wall through sheer force of will.

"Uh yea, we're fine. She's fine." Derek answers. But his eyebrows draw together like he's not too sure.

Scott nods his head. "That's cool. She's not like, clingy or anything, right? Cuz that would suck."

Stiles has no idea where Scott is going with this, but his heartbeat is slowly increasing whilst his stomach sinks.

"No she's fine." Derek says again. "I mostly see her at school and stuff so..." He shrugs.

There's a beat of silence, and then Stiles turns his head arubtly and watches Derek's face when he asks, "Do you love her?"

This time, Scott keeps his mouth shut.

The look of surprise on Derek's face is natural, but then it shifts so that he looks like he's tasted something sour. "W-what? Stiles what the hell kind of question is that?"

Honestly, Stiles thinks he should stop, but he knows it's already too late. "Do you love her?" He repeats.

And Derek bristles and says, "Of course." But Stiles doesn't really believe it.

So he asks, "Why?" And Derek stills.

Moments pass, but Derek doesn't answer. He stares at the sheets on his bed and furrows his brows but he doesn't answer.

Standing up and packing his things, Stiles begins to make his way out with Scott close behind.

He stops at the doorway to ask one more thing, though.

"Then why are you still with her?" And then he leaves.

•.•.•.•

Safe to say that Stiles and Derek don't talk for the next couple of days. The only ones to really notice are Boyd, probably because he's friends with them both, and Erica, because she's Erica.

"You look bummed." She says as she takes her usual seat. "Boyd told me you and Derek are going through a rough patch. That sucks, dude."

Stiles scoffs and pokes at his limp French fries. "You make it sound like we're dating or something."

Erica raises her eyebrows, and Stiles caves.

"Whatever." He says, "The dude is in an emotionally abusive relationship with a female. He's straight and insecure, I'm guessing."

"You need to get your mind off of him for a bit." Erica suggests as she begins to scan the cafeteria. Without Malia here today, there's no one to save him from Erica's deep, dark clutches. "There, how about him?" She points across to a table currently occupied by Jackson - which makes Stiles' mood worsen - and a few other dudes. The guy she's pointing out is next to Jackson, with dimples and smooth tan skin.

"He's cute." Stiles says because it's true. He doesn't think it's helping, but he can realize when someone's attractive any day.

"Yea." Erica says. "I hear his dick is huge."

Stiles almost chokes on his chocolate milk. "I'm sorry what?"

Erica blinks. "I said his dick-"

"No no no no no." Stiles cuts her off quickly. "Please, do not repeat that. Ever."

Erica rolls her eyes. "Oh please." She starts. "As if you don't talk about that kind of stuff with your guy buddies."

Stiles doesn't know what to say honestly. He just hadn't expected a girl to be so... blatant. Not even Malia talked like that.

"His name is Danny, in case you're interested." Erica resumes as if nothing happened. "For whatever reason, he's Jacksons best friend, but he's super nice."

"I'm really not interested in anyone right now, thanks." Stiles says.

Erica takes a bite of her pizza. "I'm pretty sure he's screwing Jackson anyways." Stiles sputters out his milk again. "Do you see how close they sit? Their thighs are touching. And Jacksons practically breathing into the guys neck every time he turns his head. They're totally fucking."

Again, Stiles is speechless. He doesn't even want to think about Jackson having sex, much less gay sex. 

"Jacksons uh- he's not gay." Stiles manages. "Trust me, I know." He flashes back to the scene in the locker room where Jackson had mocked him for being gay, so there's no way Jackson could be.

Apparently, Erica isn't buying it. "No, sweetie. He's insecure and overprotective and doesn't want to face judgement, but Jacksons totally gay. And everyone is pretty certain Danny is, he just hasn't come out yet."

Stiles takes one last look at the pair before rolling his eyes. "If you say so, boss." And Erica actually drops it.

•.•.•.•

They have a game that Friday, but they lose. The coach put both Derek and Stiles in the game, and given their current situation neither one was willing to communicate properly with the other. All in all, their worst game of the season thus far. Crawford even pulls Derek aside to ask him what's going on, but Derek just shakes his head and brushes him off. 

Stiles also may have been distracted by a distinct lack of a certain someone who definitely should have been at the game that night. He'd be in the middle of blocking his designated opponent when something along the lines of _I'd show up to all my boyfriends games even if I wasn't supposed to be cheering him on from the sidelines_ , and then the ball would whoosh past and the coach would shout complaints.

And, on the bus ride back, that Isaac kid elbowed him in the ribs and didn't apologize. So it was really just not a good night.

Stiles climbs into bed after dinner and stares at his ceiling, thinking, _what the hell am I supposed to do?_ But he can't come up with an answer.


	12. Get to it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia makes her debut! She’s sassy and takes no shit! She also may be very very frustrated and, fairly enough, takes it out on Jennifer.
> 
> Sidenote: theres a little homophobia in this. jennifer is homophobic. just adding on to the long list of reasons to hate her, but i just wanted to put in a sort of warning. just in case. okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooooooo. I suck assballs. But, I finally produced another chapter. Im getting back into it. I am very very very sorry for the long wait. I’m a piece of poop, I know. Thank you if you still read this mess after all this time. I love you.

Its been two weeks, and thanks to Scott, Stiles has his answer.

While he was busy avoiding the hell out of Derek at school and lacrosse, Scottie-boy was busy calling in a favor.

”Mieczyslaw!” Stiles hears from across the parking lot, accompanied by the clacking of heels on pavement. The voice catches his attention because 1. That’s his full first name, _pronounced correctly_ , and 2. He knows that voice very, very well.

”Lydia?” He says, turning around to be met with arms and hair and oh, a hug. A short hug, because then Lydia lets go and points a manicured finger in his face angrily.

”You are a motherfucking dumbass.” She greets.

Stiles doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Oh what, I haven’t seen you in months and the first thing you say to me once we’re finally together is I’m a dumbass? What the hell is that about Lydia?”

”You know.” Lydia practically seethes.

”Lydia, I would love to hang out and catch up, but I have to go to lacrosse practice. I actually made the team, so I take this pretty seriously.” Stiles says, adjusting the strap of the duffel bag on his shoulder.

”I know. Scott told me. Lord knows you’d never.” Lydia rolls hers eyes. “I’m coming with you. I did not drive all the way over here just to be turned away.”

Stiles nods. “Fine. I’m sure you know how lacrosse practices work. There will be a lot of sweaty boys, definitely a few smelly ones, and lots of yelling.”

Lydia doesn’t answer. Instead, she begins the walk toward the field. 

“So, why are you here?” Stiles asks once he catches up. “For real, Lyds. I want to know.”

“Scott asked me to be here.” She says. “Can you think of any possible reason why?”

Stiles thinks for a minute. “You’ve finally gotten tired of playing by yourself and want to join our Call of Duty group?”

Lydia gives a small, obviously fake laugh. “No. Think back about two weeks, Stiles. Think really hard about what you did and, most importantly, _didn’t_ do.”

A moment passes without an answer, but one look at Stiles’ face tells Lydia that he knows what she’s talking about.

”Okay then.” She starts as they reach the locker rooms. “I’ll be up on the bleachers. If you’re not on-field, come see me.” Then she struts away, not waiting for confirmation.

Stiles slugs his way to his locker and drops his bag with a heavy thud, his body following suit. Slowly, he gets changed into his gear and packs everything into the locker, clicking the lock into place afterwards. He can hear Jackson’s obnoxious voice as he walks out into the field, lacrosse stick in hand.

”-Over on Main St. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a house party before, but they’re pretty cool once the alcohol gets running.” Stiles catches sight of Jackson talking to Lydia, and makes a beeline to the pair.

”Stiles!” Lydia says with a smile. “Your co-captain here was just telling about this party over on Main Street, maybe you’d like to come?” 

Jackson makes a sour face. “I didn’t invite Stilinski. I invited you.” He tells her.

Lydia frowns. “Oh, that’s funny.” She says. “I didn’t realize we were friends or even relatively acquantied what-so-ever. I have to wonder what made you think I’d even want to go to a party with an asshole like you.”

Stiles almost laughs at how red Jackson’s face turns. “Whatever.” He mutters as he walks away.

Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder. “So, down to business. I’m going to go out on a limb and say Mr. Dark and Broody is your guy?” She says, jutting her chin ever-so-slightly in Derek’s direction.

Stiles nods. “Yes. Please, can you just leave it alone? I don’t want you making things worse.”

Lydia scoffs. “Sweetie, I don’t know how this could get much worse.”

And then the whistle blows, and Stiles has to get into the huddle.

The team sets up for practice quick, but Stiles can’t stop looking back to check on Lydia. He’s not sure what he’s more afraid of: the guys on the team that’ll hit on her, or Lydia’s interference with his social life. It’s probably the latter.

”Stilinski!” Coach Crawford calls, just after Stiles was knocked down because he was paying more attention to Lydia than the game. “Sit on the bench. Lahey, you’re up.”

Stiles trudges his way off the field, lifting up his helmet and preparing to meet up with Lydia. Only, to his dismay, Lydia is no where in sight. He whips his head around the field, not finding her on the sidelines or even next to Derek, who’s sitting angry and alone on the side of the field, occasionally calling out harsh remarks and criticisms at the players. 

A flash of red finally catches his eye, and he sees her. Lydia is just outside the field, seemingly talking to a cheerleader. As Stiles makes his way closer, that cheerleader becomes unsettlingly familiar.

”-boyfriend. Not a hunk of meat to parade around with and cater to your needs. Try to be at least a half-decent human being for once in your sorry-ass life and let him go. Let him be happy.” 

“He is happy. With me.”

”That’s not happiness. That’s emotional manipulation.”

”Lydia?” Stiles says, approaching with caution because quite frankly he doesn’t trust either of these women.

Lydia turns and glares at him. “What?” She barks.

Jennifer smirks.

”Uh, what are you doing way over here?” Stiles asks, ignoring the look in Lydia’s eyes that tells him to back off. “I though you were just staying for practice.” He gives her a look back. One that says, I’m trying to diffuse this situation please just come with me and we’ll talk this out someplace else. 

Lydia pulls her mouth into a thin line, then turns back to Jennifer with a fake smile. “I’m sorry. My friend needs me for something. We’ll pick this up another time, yea?” And then she begins to walk away.

Before they’re out of hearing range, though, Stiles and Lydia both catch Jennifer say, “Just because fairy-boy gets off to pictures of my boyfriend, doesn’t mean he gets to convert him.”

And while Stiles feels that sinking feeling in his gut that he always gets when he’s met with homophobia, Lydia fumes, and Stiles doesn’t react in time to stop the fist that slams into Jennifer’s face. 

Jennifer cries out. Stiles grabs Lydia by the hand and is surprised when she lets him drag her away. He keeps his head down to avoid the attention of his teammates and resolves to explain this to Coach tomorrow. He hears Derek call out, and quickens his pace.

”What the shit, Lydia!”


	13. Loyal, Royal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Stiles and Lydia. Then Laura shows up. Things are starting to look hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not really satisfied with this chapter at all, and its kind of short. Also, there’s some Lydia and Laura thing happening here. Also, i didnt update yesterday because it was prom and i was out having fun with my friends, drinking milkshakes and whatnot. Anyways, here you go.

They wind up at Dairy Queen: Lydia furiously munching on her Turtle Pecan Cluster Blizzard, and Stiles picking at his M&M Blizzard worriedly.

”So...” Stiles starts, not bothering to cast a glance at Lydia’s face because angry-Lydia is not a good Lydia.

”I’m not going to apologize.” Lydia says, plunging her plastic red spoon into her Blizzard.

Stiles nods. “Okay.” He pauses. 

“Could you at least-“

”No.”

”Just consider-“

”No.”

”I don’t want-“

”I don’t care.”

”Lydia you didn’t have to do that!” He shouts, abandoning the frozen treat in front of him. “I’m not a child, I can handle things on my own, I can handle ignorance.”

Lydia bristles. “You’re right, Stiles. I didn’t have to. I wanted to, because she _deserved_ it.”

Stiles rubs a hand over his face. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this to people? I bring one friend from my old school to lacrosse practice and she throws a punch. What am I supposed to tell the coach? Or Derek? That’s his girlfriend, for Christ’s sake.”

”You're not even talking to Derek right now so why the hell does it matter.” It’s not a question. It’s a jab. And it’s meant to hurt.

”I don't... I don’t want to fight with you, Lydia.” Stiles says, and despite his attempts to conceal it, his voice shows that he is, in fact, hurt.

The girl puts her Blizzard cup on the table and turns to Stiles. “I don’t want to fight with you either.” She says. “And I’m sorry. Not for punching Jennifer, but for what I said. It’s just, that girl angers me, so so much. Like, how can you even think to say something like that?”

Stiles nods quietly. “I know.”

Lydia stares at him for a moment. Neither of them say anything. Finally, Lydia breaks the silence.

”You really like Derek, don’t you?”

Stiles can feel his chest contract at the mention of his name; can feel the lightheadedness carry through his brain. A lot of his friends seem to like asking him this question.

“Yea. I think I do.” 

Lydia gives him a hug.

Someone clears their throat. It’s not Stiles or Lydia. The pair parts to see Laura Hale, in all her leather-jacketed glory, with some sort of Blizzard in her hand.

”Stiles, hey!” The older girl greets.

Stiles waves. “Hi, Laura. This is my friend Lydia, from my old school.” Laura does this weird once-over glance, almost like... nah. Couldn’t be. Stiles continues “Lydia, this Laura Hale, Derek’s older sister.”

Lydia smiles a dazzling smile. “Hi. I really love your top, is it Micheal Kors?”

Laura shrugs. “I don’t know, I just pick whatever looks good.”

Lydia nods. “Yea, it’s a shame the leather jacket covers up all the best bits. It really is a cute top.”

Something sparks in Laura’s eyes, Stiles can feel it. He has absolutely no idea what is happening right now, but it’s something alright.

“Right well, I just wanted to say hello. Stiles has been over my house a couple times, him and my little brother Derek are pretty close. Do you know about Stiles and Derek?” Laura raises an eyebrow at Lydia suggestively.

Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder. “Yea, I know about Stiles and Derek.”

Stiles feels himself blush. “Derek and I, we’re not really talking right now, actually.”

Laura scoffs. “That would explain why he’s so pissy.” Stiles can hear Lydia try to muffle a snort. It sort of works. “He invited you to the Hale New Years bash, didn’t he?”

Stiles nods. “He did, but I don’t think I’m going to go. A lots happened today that makes me feel like my presence wouldn’t be too welcomed.”

”What makes you say that?”

Stiles and Lydia share a look. A look where both of them are asking the same question: is it okay if I share the story? In the end, it’s Lydia who does.

”Well,” Lydia says, grabbing her melting Blizzard from the table to idly stir at it while she talks. “I came to visit Stiles at lacrosse practice after not seeing him for a few months, when I ran into Derek’s girlfriend, Jennifer. We started talking, Stiles came over, Jennifer said something not-very-nice and I punched her.” Lydia shrugs. “Then we came here.”

Laura doesn’t wait a beat. “Oh my god that’s amazing.” She exclaims, laughing. “I can’t imagine what she said but it must’ve been something. I’ve always wanted to punch that girl, I’m kind of jealous you got the chance to do it first.”

Lydia shines.

Stiles gets a weird sense of dread. “Yea well, Derek saw the whole thing. I’m almost certain he doesn’t want to talk to me right now.”

”I’ll talk to Derek.” Laura promises. “I’ll get him to get his head out of his ass. Just come to the party, if not for Derek, then for me.” She places a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and there’s a sense of comfort; like Laura is his own older sister. “Lydia is welcome to come, too, if she wants.” 

And all of a sudden Stiles is very, very uncomfortable. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” Lydia says coyly. “I might be going out of town to visit an old friend, so I’ll have Stiles get back to you on that.”

Laura nods and smiles. “Alright then, I will see you two kids later.” She salutes, then winks in Lydia’s direction, then struts off.

As soon as she’s out of range, Stiles turns to Lydia. “Dude, you were totally flirting with Laura Hale.”

Lydia smirks, taking a spoonful of melting ice cream into her mouth. “Mmhmm.” She agrees.

Stiles blinks. “Care to explain?” He says, incredulously.

Lydia sets her Blizzard down. “Stiles, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual. I know I like guys, but I spent so much time focused on them that I neglected to realize the alternative possibility of liking girls, as well. And I do. I like girls.”

Stiles gapes.

”No fucking way.”

•.•.•.•

The next morning, Stiles gets a text. 

**Derek: hey, can we talk? I promise I’m not mad or anything like that, I just want to talk**

Stiles takes a while to reply. Spends too many minutes just staring at the letters before him.

And there was never really a question as to whether he would agree or not, Stiles realizes. He’s missed Derek. He’s missed him so fucking much. He’s missed his smile with the little bunny teeth; his messy dark hair and accompanying stubble; his pointy ears and stubbed fingernails. Stiles has missed everything.

**-Stiles: yea, of course. Where do you want to meet up?**


	14. All Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ya boys kiss and make up (only figuratively). Scott is the best bud to ever bud. Laura is a whole mood. Overall good stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’ve been working on this story for over a year and I’m a horrible person because I never update, I’m sorry. Also, I feel like this chapter moves a little fast but *shrugs*.

Stiles’ hands are very, very clammy. Like, y’know that in-between feeling of not quite full-on sweating but not quite _not_ full-on sweating? Yea, that’s where Stiles is at right now. 

Every time he sees a flash of short dark hair in the hallway, his heart skips a beat. Derek and him agreed to meet up right before lacrosse practice today, and Stiles’ stomach is bunching up like a rainbow slinky falling down a staircase.

At lunch, he barely eats. Malia chomps viciously on a slice of pizza, Erica is absent, and Boyd is silently judging him from across the lunch room. 

Its not a good day for Stiles.

When last period is finally over, Stiles considers bailing. It’s a lot easier to ignore your problems than to face them, after all. The only downfall: if he doesn’t talk to Derek today, he may never talk to him again.

Stiles slams his locker a little to hard and grips the strap of his duffel bag tightly.

•.•.•.•

Derek is sitting up on the bleachers, already geared up for practice when Stiles finds him.

”Hey.” Stiles says shakily, placing his duffel on the step below him and sitting a good distance away.

Derek gives a tight-lipped smile. “Hey.”

Moments pass where neither of them say anything.

Derek runs a hand through his hair. “Look, Stiles.” He finally says. “I don’t- I like you.” Stiles’ heart feels insanely heavy, now. “I like hanging out with you. You’re funny and smart and sometimes you overstep your boundaries but I think you mean well.”

Stiles nods. “That’s...” He pauses, thinking, “That’s valid, yea.” 

Derek continues. “I want to keep hanging out with you, but I also want to hang out with my girlfriend. And I can’t do both if you’re going to go around punching her whenever I’m not there.”

Stiles makes an indignant sound. “Okay dude, I never _touched_ Jennifer.”

“Then what happened?”

”A friend of mine came to hang out, somehow started talking to Jennifer, Jennifer said something not-so-nice and my friend got angry. My friend then proceeded to punch Jennifer in the face, and is a stubborn-headed mule who won’t apologize.”

Another few moments pass. 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says eventually. 

“No.” Derek says. His eyebrows are drawn together and Stiles may faint because _god he’s adorable_. “You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

”I didn’t stop her, either.” Stiles mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

Derek lifts up his hand, almost as if he was going to put it on Stiles’ shoulder, and then abandons the idea. “What uh- what did Jennifer say that made your friend so angry? Maybe I can talk to her about it or...” He trails off.

”It was nothing.” Stiles lies. “Some comment about her hair.”

Derek is looking at him, very intensely. Stiles can’t quite pick out the emotion in his eyes, but that’s probably because he won’t actually _look_ Derek in the eyes.

”What’d she say, Stiles?” 

And Stiles breaks. Because dammit if Derek doesn’t sound like he fucking cares that someone could say something to hurt him. To hurt Stiles.

Stiles slumps over, putting his head in his hands and mumbling through, “She called me ‘fairy-boy’ and suggested that I’m trying to ‘convert’ you.”

Derek hears him clear enough. He visibly tenses, wringing his hands together tightly as he says, “That’s ridiculous. I’m sorry you had to hear something like that.”

Stiles sits up, shaking his head. “It’s whatever. I can deal.”

Derek looks at him and Stiles finally looks back, he has to, and fuck Derek’s sunset ombré eyes that are bearing into his fucking soul. “You shouldn’t have to.” He says, and it’s earnest as all hell. “I’ll talk to her. She’s not homophobic, she has gay friends. I think she just wanted to hurt you, she says stuff she doesn’t mean sometimes. I’ll talk to her.”

Stiles offers him a half smile. He doesn’t want to argue, so he doesn’t bring up the fact that she could be homophobic and have gay friends, like a pedophile could have children and still be a pedophile, and he drops the issue. At least for now.

“Hey uh, is it still okay that I’m going to your New Years party?” He says instead. “I caught up with Laura a little while ago and she really wants me to go.”

”Oh yea, of course.” Derek says, relaxing. “I think I’d have to kill you if you didn’t.”

Stiles barks out a laugh. “Kill me? Just for not showing up to a party? You don’t think that’d be an overreaction?”

Derek grins at him, and it’s not a full grin like he used to give, but it’s a step in the right direction. “Well, Laura and my mom would kill me if you didn’t show. So I’ll have to take measures to avenge my death preemptively.”

”Just make sure to find me before they find you.” Stiles adds on, tapping at his temple with his finger for emphasis. 

Derek chuckles. Stiles feels this weight lifted off his chest, one he totally knew was there but had kind of adjusted to, and he sighs.

Then Coach Crawford blows his whistle, and Stiles realizes he’s not nearly as ready for practice as he should be.

•.•.•.•

Practice ends around 8:15 and Stiles immediately dials Scott.

”How’d it go?” Scott asks, without even a ‘hello’ or ‘what’s up’ as a predecessor. 

Stiles can tell he’s grinning ear to ear but he can’t seem to stop. “Fantastic, I think. Derek is still in denial about his girlfriend and all her bitch-ass glory, but we’re on good terms. And we started joking around, again, which is great. I’ve really missed joking around with him.”

Scott laughs, but it’s a distorted sound on Stiles’ end. “You’re such a sap. Sometimes I think you’re an even bigger sap than me.”

Stiles gasps. “The only reason I’m such a sap is because all your sapiness rubbed off on me. I am not the one to blame, here.”

Scott makes a very sassy ‘mmhm’ sound that makes Stiles die a little inside. 

“Oh my god, never do that again.” Stiles says through his pain.

”I got it from you!” Scott shouts through the phone. 

“Leave it for me. Never, ever make that sound again.” He laughs. “Alright, I gotta get home, talk to you tomorrow?” 

“Yea,” Scott says. “Just text me.”

Stiles hangs up, and not even ten minutes later pulls into his driveway, where Scott is waiting with a bag from Buffalo Wild Wings and a liter of Mountain Dew. 

“Dude!” Stiles yells, getting out of his car. 

Scott grins back at him, waving around the food. “Are you gonna invite me inside or am I going to eat all these wings by myself?” 

Stiles wants to hug him, but he doesn’t trust himself not to smush the lovely food that Scott has so graciously bought, so instead he opens up the door and leads Scott to the kitchen.

”Have I mentioned that you’re my best friend?” Stiles asks. “Because you are. The very best.”

Scott smiles as he sets the bag on the counter top, opening one of the boxes inside to grab a tiny drumstick. “I think I may have heard you say something like that, yea.”

Stiles nudges his friends shoulder as he goes for a piece himself.

”So,” Scott says. “What happened? I want all the details.”

Stiles chuckles. “Nothing much. I mean, we met up by the bleachers, talked it out. Just the right amount of touchy feely for two dudes, bro-ing it out.”

Scott nods. “And?” He says, drawing out the ‘a’ sound expectantly.

“And nothing.” Stiles shrugs. “We had to go practice right after.”

For a moment, Scott looks a little disappointed. “Man, I was hoping for a little more drama than that.”

Stiles squawks around his buffalo wing. “What, is my life some sort of entertainment for you? A reality show on MTV?”

“My life is kind of boring without you, Stiles. You’re my best friend and I don’t get to spend as much time with you as I used to. No one else drags me into the middle of the woods at 2am to find a dead body or gets me out of math class to get Taco Bell during a test.”

Stiles can feel his heart start beating a little faster. “Man, I love you.” He says.

Scott smiles. “I love you, too, dude.”

Then, at the same time, the both shout, “No homo!” and subsequently break into a fit of laughter. Stiles only stops when he feels his phone vibrate against his thigh.

**Laura: You whore. Why didn’t you tell me you and Derek made up?**

Stiles scoffs and starts typing a response.

“Who’s that?” Scott asks curiously, leaning over to see the message. Stiles adjusts so Scott can read.

”Laura Hale, Derek’s older sister. She’s cool.”

**-Stiles: uh... isn’t that Derek’s job?**

**Laura: I thought we were friends, man!! You did me dirty. I expect a full song dedicated to me during this New Years party, Stilinski.**

Scott smirks. “You’re going to sing for them?”

Stiles can feel a blush creep it’s way up his face. “Derek asked me to. And Laura is pushy as hell.”

**-Stiles: i’ll make sure to mention you right before I launch into a glorious rendition of Darude Sandstorm**

Scott facepalms.

**Laura: That’s not a vocal piece of music!! I need vocals from you!!! Derek writes poetry about your amazing talent and I want to hear it too!!!!!!**

More blushing. Scott giggles. “He writes poetry, Stiles. You got a real keeper.” He teases.

“Hey, you write Allison cheesy poetry all the time.” Stiles retorts with raises eyebrows, daring Scott to contradict him.

Scott doesn’t.

**-Stiles: he does NOT write poetry about me. and if you play nice, you just might get something with a little more meat to it. like ‘Sail’ by Awolnation.**

“Isn’t that just like three minutes of shouting the word ‘sail’ into the mic, with minimal singing?” Scott asks.

”That’s the point.” Stiles answers.

**Laura: No. Just no. I want Celine Dion. Or Justin Timberlake. Maroon 5. Something worthwhile.**

**-Stiles: hmmm. i’ll think about it**

“You're horrible.” Scott says.

Stiles grins. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta'd and I have no idea what I'm doing so comments pretty much fuel my entire being! Also, this is my first full fic. I usually only write one-shots so hopefully this goes well.


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